


Do You Want to Know a Secret

by oh_johnny



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mild BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 12:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19767853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: John always did like control freaks.





	Do You Want to Know a Secret

John figured out he was bisexual when he was 14. Oh, he didn't know that was the name for it (dirty poofter was what Mrs. MacDonald down at the post office called it) but he was sure nonetheless. He was in the park, ostensibly watching the footie but really snogging Carol up behind the tree, when Tommy Reardon ran past waving his shirt in the air, celebrating a goal. Completely distracting, that was. He'd known Tommy since they were six years old and had been caught giggling looking at each others' infant genitals in the loo. Mimi had been horrified. Julia had laughed. 

John's prick twitched. And when Carol demanded his mouth again he kept his eyes open, peering past the girl to the not even remotely infant Tommy, admiring the muscles on display, gleaming with sweat. 

His late-night wanking that night featured speculation about the current state of Tommy's genitals, and poor Carol didn't even get a supporting role. 

* * *

Paul figured out he was bisexual when he met John. 

* * *

Neither of them mentioned it to the other. Didn't think it was important or didn't think the other would feel the same and neither wanting to fuck up toppermost of the poppermost with some sort of embarrassing mistake. 

They both found other outlets. John found Stu. Then Jurgen. Paul found secret clubs. 

Until one night in London, after a day of recording, they saw Brian get into a car with a young man.

“I'd do him,” John said.

“Thought you already did,” answered Paul. “In Spain.”

John looked over at Paul in shock. Paul just raised an eyebrow and grinned.

“You know?” stammered John.

“Well, I do now,” Paul replied. “And just so we're really clear... you get Brian. I get the boy. Right?”

“You bugger!” John exclaimed. 

Paul laughed. “Yes,” he said.

“Well, fuck me.”

“Okay,” said Paul.

And that was all it took.

***

The first time was all giggly exploration. 

“Do you like....”

“Fuck!”

“So that's a yes?”

“Fuck, Paul, just get on with it!”

“Well, that's no fun. What about...”

***

 _Fuck, Paul, just get on with it!_ became a catchphrase. John, well John could talk all night when he was in the mood. But when he was hard and needy and Paul wanted to take it slow, wanted to talk about what he was going to do... well.

The day John used it in the studio Paul nearly choked on his tea. He glared, but John just smiled, adding, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, “,,, if you wouldn't mind, of course,”

Paul made him pay for that later. A long, loving meander through the history of the proclivities of the Marquis de Sade, whose works he'd been perusing, bent over John's prick, pausing every now and then to take a lick, fingers slowfucking John's arse. 

The night Paul decided to see how many times he could make John come was nothing short of memorable.

***

Seven, for the nosey. 

***

It was after that that Paul brought in builders to soundproof a room he afterwards referred to as his home studio. 

The handcuffs and chained to the bed were fun. The flogger too, once John got used to it.

He did inquire once, which led to the most bizarre conversation George had ever had. And, no, he hadn't known, previously, that there were clubs you could go to to take lessons for that sort of thing.

Apparently, neither had Ringo.

***

And so it went. They both had women in their lives, and sometimes the occasional other man, but no-one could give either of them what they gave each other.

For years.

And then Yoko learned how to use a whip.


End file.
